


Honey

by baphopower



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Dessert & Sweets, Fluff, Happy Birthday Tem, Innuendo, M/M, generally unhealthy food in general, sugary food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baphopower/pseuds/baphopower
Summary: Augustine knows Lysandre's biggest secret and has no problem indulging him from time to time.





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Temmy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Temmy).



Professor Augustine Sycamore knew Lysandre's darkest secret. No, not the Team Flare thing, something he considered to be so terrible that he had to keep it secret from everyone except his closest friends. 

Augustine didn't really understand why Lysandre was so adamant about keeping this thing a secret. Surely there had to be worse things out there for him to be worried about escaping into public notice.

Because of Lysandre's secrecy, Augustine began to jokingly refer to the dark secret as _The Thing._ This, of course, got everyone else in the lab curious and led to some awful rumors about what's actually going on in there. Still, everyone turned a blind eye out of respect for both men. 

Today was Friday, which meant Lysandre will stop by in the evening to do _The Thing._

Augustine had prepared in advance, stopping by the gas station and the pharmacy to pick up a few of the things he needed before hurrying back home with the contraband.

Nobody ever raised an eyebrow at this, as it was pretty in character for Sycamore to run by the gas station and pharmacy for multiple reasons, and outside of condoms (Which weren't ever used by Lysandre or Augustine), there wasn't really much to hide. Even still, he kept everything secret from everyone, even Sina and Dexio.

At the end of the day, as always, Augustine fixed everything up on his desk, gave the papers to other scientists, and put all the premature starters into the garden. As all the interns and assistants left, Lysandre made his way in through the crowd, looking somewhat anxious. Augustine had been waiting for him in the lobby, as calm and chill as ever. When approached by his husband, in a sultry voice, Augustine asked, "Are you ready?"

"I'm always ready," Lysandre replied, hands finding his hips. He backed Augustine into the elevator and closed the door before pulling the lever and pressing the button for the third floor. They just stood in each others arms, Augustine tracing Lysandre's spine gently, and Lysandre taking note of how Augustine's hair smelled like vanilla and Shea butter.

The lab was dark and quiet, with the blinds closed and no sounds coming from anything besides a few machines that were cooling down. Augustine locked the elevator and took Lysandre's hand, leading him to the desk and lighting a few scented candles, placing them on the sides of the desk. The needle of the gramophone was lowered to the record, and soft violin music began to play. 

Lysandre rolled his eyes. "I think you're being a bit over the top, love."

"What do you mean? This is one of the few times we get to spend alone, and I'm going to enjoy it."

"Is my presence not enjoyable in itself?"

"Of course it is! It's just. This is a special time and I want it to feel special. I missed you. I want this to be nice."

Lysandre sighed. "Alright, sweetheart. I can't say no to you."

"Stay right here. I have something special planned for tonight." Augustine purred softly. He made his way back to his desk and unlocked the bottom drawer. Sitting inside were two boxes of krispy kreme donuts. As he placed them on the desk, Lysandre gasped. "You didn't."

"I might have stopped by that new shop down the road and told them that I'm bringing donuts for my coworkers during my lunch break." Augustine said a bit sheepishly.

"Did you actually eat any lunch?" Lysandre crossed his arms.

Augustine folded his hands in front of him like a child caught misbehaving. "...No. I forgot."

"We're not eating those donuts until you've eaten something else. Did you even pack a lunch?"

"I, ah, I brought a spicy chicken ramen bowl." Augustine replied, glancing back at his desk. 

"Well...its something. Hold on, I think I have some leftovers from my dinner."

It was at this point that Augustine wondered if lying would have been better. 

Lysandre left and returned a few minutes later with some cold shrimp scampi and proceeded to feed it to Augustine himself, to make sure he was actually eating it. When they finished, they turned to the boxes. Augustine opened the first box with was filled with various holed donuts with icing and/or cream on them. When Lysandre opened the other box, he groaned loudly. "Eclairs? Augustine, why?"

Augustine smirked. "They're my favorites, and they were on sale."

"I swear to God if you do that weird sexual thing again--"

"Alright, alright. I won't."

"Glad we're on the same page here."

The pair sat down and took great care in cutting all the donuts in half to share in between them. Augustine started off with a chocolate iced donut while Lysandre ate a powdered one.

At first glance, there was nothing particularly bad about this. Just a loving couple sharing sweets between one another. The issue, however, for Lysandre, was the fact that these were cheap, commoner food. He dreaded to think what would happen if he were caught with something like this. Oh, the tabloids would be relentless.

Augustine didn't understand at all, but wasn't going to breathe a word.

Soon, the taste of glazed donuts and chocolate were all either of them could think about. This felt like paradise. Sitting together in Augustine's office after hours, eating terrible foods without the fear of another's gaze. Just pure gluttony. It was the purest and most sinful emotion in the world, and sharing it with each other just made it all that sweeter.


End file.
